Annie's Games - The 70th
by mayvoddsb
Summary: Only shortly after her victory, Annie went mad and could only find peace from her nightmares at the presence of Finnick Odair. But what did the games do to this Career tribute to make her like this? DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games, even if I'd like to have written it as it's such a good trilogy ;-)
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys!**

 **Decided to re-write a fanfic I half-made on my old account, as my laptop broke, I forgot my log in and it was rather rubbish! This chapter has been made from two smaller chapters which I've been editing so it's a pretty long one.**

 **Hope you enjoy and happy new year!**

 _ **D x**_

* * *

It always feels strange on reaping day - to me it does, anyway.

There is so little action in the district until the reaping itself: no one is out and about, not a single shop has an open window, and even the seagulls are keeping themselves to themselves. Perhaps they're scared of peacekeepers as much as we are - that they'll shoot them or something.

It'll get busier later though. The rest of the teens come out of their houses much later on, which is fine with me as it means I don't have to queue up to be registered for ages - if it's just as it was last year then I'll be waiting for five minutes at the most, but, then again, you have to wait in the square for an awfully long time.

I walk up the uneven cobblestone steps once again. There are several tables set up, each with a rope separating them and a white-clothed Capitol person stood behind, most of them flicking through the papers and looking bored and hot. Don't really blame them – standing there in one of Panem's warmest districts for hours on end can't be too exciting, especially in those skin-tight uniforms. Other than them, the dozens of peacekeepers and an elderly couple standing in the distance, we are the only ones here.

I take myself towards the sixteen-year-old's registration desk and suddenly remember the finger-prick we all have to go through every year as part of your registration. It doesn't hurt much, but your finger just bleeds for ages and you can't really do anything with it as they don't give you anything to staunch the blood flow (as small as it is), which is just a right pain.

The woman at my desk looks quite old (unless that's due to the plastic surgery and she's actually twenty or something like that) so I assume that she's done this in other districts. She doesn't talk much – she doesn't really need to talk to me, as I immediately offer her my index finger for her to puncture, completely used to the drill – and is _a lot_ gentler than that grumpy old woman last year. I breathe a sigh of relief as I walk off through the black rope and into the square where I planned to meet my brothers. Niall had finished registering at around the same time as I had, and Jack looks like he's nearly done.

"Are you volunteering this year?" I ask Niall as we stand there. He shrugs, keeping a straight face and not really looking at me.

"Probably," he says. "I'm eighteen and I've been training forever, so why not?"

I don't know it that's a yes or a no.

"Are you?" I ask Jack when he comes over to see us. "Volunteering, I mean?"

"Are you?" he asks me. He's so good at dodging questions, especially ones like these about volunteering.

"Probably not," I reply. I don't really want to volunteer - not this year, anyway. "I might as well make the most of my last two years in the training centre - if I become victor then I can't train anymore."

"It would be great to live in one of those mansions in the Victor's Village—" Niall says. I know what's coming next. "—next to Finnick Odair, perhaps."

I roll my eyes. Honestly, I don't even find that funny anymore. He's a person, just like the rest of us, even if he is the Capitol daydream and I'm not.

"What's wrong with you, Annie?" Jack teases. "You used to be obsessed! It's all you ever used to talk about. Finnick, Finnick, Finn-" I move my hand just enough to stop the words coming out of his mouth and give him a red mark on his face, which may turn purple later on.

"I was eleven - I didn't know any better." I don't know if they were convinced. "I don't like him anymore!"

"Yeah, right," Niall says mockingly. I threaten him and he just laughs.

* * *

Over the next few hours the square fills up with people and is soon packed. It's getting hot now, and I can't help but notice that girl stood near to me is being cooked under that close-fitting turquoise dress she wears, and feel smug in my lighter cotton dress. She looks bored (and she's only been stood here for half and hour!), and I'm guessing that she's from a completely different zone as I haven't ever seen her around before.

I turn to look for Niall or Jack, but they're well hidden at the back and I can't see over the taller people. The girl stood to my right a neighbour; Casey Whyte. I see her around quite a bit, but we don't talk too often (whenever we do chat it's only really because we don't have anything better to do at that moment) and she's in a different class to me at school and she doesn't train. Her family aren't in the best of state at the moment, from what I've heard; her father was killed in a fishing accident two months ago and now they have no income and completely rely on her asking for terresae, resulting in her name in the glass reaping bowl more times than anyone else her age. I smile at her and she smiles back, but we say nothing.

I look around, giving a rough estimate to who'll volunteer this year. There's a few worthy contestants from what I can see, and it's pretty obvious that one of my brothers will be in the list. Depends who volunteers first and who gets reaped.

It turns out that I don't have to wait much longer to find out as I can hear the click-clack of stilettos on concrete. I look up at the stage (what I can see of the stage behind the number of heads in my way, anyway) to find that the reaping has eventually started. Behind the perfectly polished silver microphone stands Libby Mavros, our Capitol escort. She's completely over the top if you want to up short - she likes to match her clothing with our district industry so dresses in glittery blue outfit that is so hideous that I struggle to work out whether she's trying compliment or insult us. She looks like a doll – fake and ugly – and it hurts my eyes to look at her.

"Welcome District 4," her voice is twice as annoying as herself – all high pitched, making her sound excited all the time, or just very angry at something. "We have gathered here today in this District to commemorate seventy years of the Hunger Games. It is all very exciting, I know, I know, I know! Now, before we start with the reaping ceremony, we have a very special video which we like to watch." - actually, we don't like to watch this video - "It has come right from the Capitol and the quality is just _amazing_. It tells you everything you need to know about why we have the games, and it's very, very, _very_ educational." That's what annoys me – why does she think we go to school?! To mess around? No! The video plays on. I exchange looks of boredom with everyone around me (everyone around me is so I might as well join in!). Libby looks engrossed in the bad-quality video, and I can't really see what makes it so interesting. Three minutes of my life wasted then and there.

Libby claps as the video comes to it's end, and I feel like clapping too. Not because it was a good video – it really wasn't – but because I'm so glad that it's over.

"And now it's time for us to choose our female and male tribute for this year's games!" I roll my eyes and fiddle with my hair. It's not that exciting. Libby's stilettos click-clack over the concrete to the first glass bowl, which is full right to the the top with slips of paper containing all of the girls in District 4's names, and takes the piece of paper right at the top.

I'm just surprised that no-one has volunteered yet.

"Annie Cresta."

It's me. I'm in the games. I feel shocked. I'm not scared – at least I don't think I'm scared – but I don't feel... actually, I don't _know_ how I feel. I've been training for this moment for years, and now I'm going into the arena. I'm going to the land of crazy wigs. I'm going to be able to fight in a situation where my life is actually in the hands of myself. Hundreds of thousands of words pop into my head all at once - fight, death, allies, Career pack, mutations... I'm overwhelmed! I smile for the cameras and step out to the aisle - I don't need much encouragement. Quite a few kids clap, some cheer and some don't do anything. I make my way up and onto the stage. I still can't get over it - I'm going into the arena! How should I feel? Like I'm going to be first to die and will never, ever see my family and my home district again, or like I'm going to take this on like it's no big deal?

I stand beside Libby and shake her hand. She stinks of perfume – urgh.

"And now it's time to choose our male tribute!" she explains to the rest of the crowd like they're all babies and have never experienced a reaping before. She barely makes it to the glass bowl before there's a volunteer. A tall, muscular lad aged around eighteen or so strides down the centre aisle and onto the stage. I shake his hand, as does Libby. His hands are large and I guess that he's a combat fighter. He too must have inhaled the horrific stench of the perfume.

"What it's your name?" Libby questions him.

"Skye Jackman," he tells her proudly. "I'm eighteen." Libby smiles and nods.

"Our two District 4 victors!" she says like a proud mother would. Then it hits me; I'm going to have to put up with that smell of roses for another week: _brilliant_. "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour. From the Capitol, goodbye!"

I then get herded into the Justice building by peacekeepers (what am I, a District 10 cow?) along with Skye and Libby, and then shut in a large and luxuriously furnished room.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys!**

 **I have the new chapter of this fanfic here for you today! It's a pretty short chapter, since not loads needs to happen, but the next couple of chapters will most likely be longer, I promise you. I'm back to school on Tuesday (you can probably tell just how excited I am about that) so won't be writing these chapters as quickly as I have been now, but the next one will be on here within a week.**

 **Enjoy!**

 _ **D x**_

* * *

I run my fingertips across the smooth leather of the room's settee. Do all of the houses in the Capitol had furniture this luxurious? Probably.

I startle at the sudden bang of the door opening and spin round to face the aggressive-looking peacekeeper who lets my older brother in. He tells me that we have three minutes and then closes the door behind him. Niall runs to me and smiles.

"Congratulations."

"I didn't think family members were allowed in individually," I say, confused. Niall shakes his head.

"Dad and Jack aren't coming," he tells me. "They said it won't be so much a 'goodbye' anyway, but more of a 'so long'. Jack said that I was probably going to say exactly what he would."

"What did Dad say?" I ask.

"That he loves you and that Mum would be so proud of her little girl going into that arena." I smile, knowing that silent tears are running down my cheeks as I do so.

"What did you want to say to me?"

"Too much," he says. "You know it all, anyway. Bring home that victory and also the keys to our mansion in the Victor's Village." I can't help laughing.

"You're going to do fine," he says slightly more seriously, "And that's a promise. I know Skye, and he'll want his district partner as an ally, and you two will definitely attract the rest if the Career pack."

He reaches into his pocket for something. "Take this into the arena." I nod and look down at what he's holding in his hand. It's a bracelet, I think, made out of turquoise fishnet and fragments of polished stone.

"Thanks."

I would of liked longer to spend with Niall, but the peacekeeper comes in after three minutes - just as he said prior to my brother coming in - and takes him out. I feel slightly saddened by the fact that I don't get to speak to Jack or Dad before I go into the arena, but it won't affect me too much. A couple of other people also come to wish me luck in the games, but I don't particularly care about them or what they say to me. After half an hour alone in the room, Libby comes and calls me to come to the taxi. Crowds of people wait along the road and at the train station to send us off, but I don't spot anyone I know.

We board the train and Libby leads Skye and I into the main living cart, where we sit opposite her in velvet armchairs. She smiles at us in a particularly creepy way, and I try to avoid looking at her over-powdered face, which has obviously been 'perfected' with plastic surgery. Instead, I stare out of the crystal clear window and helplessly watch as the 200-mile-per-hour train moves swiftly away from home.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi guys!**

 **Sorry for the gap between posting the previous chapter and this one - I've been back at school and busy with homework :-( This chapter took longer to come up with as I have only a few ideas about what people do on long train journey ;-) Anyways, I tried, and I really hope you like this!**

 _ **D x**_

* * *

I've never been too far inland, so have never seen the industrial side of District 4 - it had never hit my mind that the fishing boats and nets must have to come from somewhere, and that this 'somewhere' has to be District 4. I guess I'd always thought the Capitol made them for us but, looking back, that was rather stupid of me as I figure now that the only things they do in the Capitol are things for our restrainment.

The journey is long and boring, but the train is cool and I feel comfortable enough. To pass some time, Skye and I watch the highlights from various other games.

"You're eighteen, right?" I ask him.

"Yeah," he says, "And you're sixteen - Niall told me before we left."

"He came to see me too. He was the only one in my family who came. Apparently I already knew what they wanted to say, and I think that would have been true, but I really wish that I could have said goodbye to them anyhow."

"All of my family visited me," Skye says. "They were pretty pleased about me getting picked, but my sister didn't want me to go. She's old enough to know how the games work." I nod but say nothing, only because I don't know what to say. In fact, we don't say another word to eachother until our mentors come and introduce themselves to us one or two hours later. They are, as guessed, Finnick and Mags and they seem to be good enough as mentors, and particularly eager to get a victor out of one of their mentees. Mags is an elderly woman, possibly in her mid-seventies, and speaks very little, mumbling whenever she does say anything, possibly due to a past stoke. She was Finnick's mentor and was helping him to mentor us on this occasion, seeing as he had never done it before. Everyone knows who Finnick is - a young, good-looking victor with a lot of talent when given a trident especially. Himself and Skye turn out to be similar in most ways, seeing as they are both moderately attractive and prefer using close combat techniques and weapons in battle. Mags won her games (the 11th Hunger Games) with my own choice of weapon: a knife. I guess we can relate to each other in ways.

That evening we watch the highlights of the reaping ceremonies in each district. Finnick tells us to keep an eye out for who we may want to have as allies. There are two siblings from District 1, and they look to be about my age with the female tribute perhaps being slightly younger if you judge by size. I immediately point out that having siblings in the games may get them a lot of sponsors and fans, especially since Gloss and Cashmere, the infamous twins who won in consecutive years, are from the same district The District 2 tributes are both older volunteers and look terrifying. The male is particularly monstrous and has as much muscle as Brutus, whereas the girl is slimmer but appears to be strong, confident and competitive. There are also two twelve year olds coming from District 6 and District 12 and and an older boy from District 7 volunteers. Apart from that, no one else stands out from the crowd as a threat, ally or Capitol favourite.

I decide to go to bed early, seeing as we're due to arrive in the Capitol fairly early the following morning. It takes me a while to get to sleep as it's still fairly light outside, but I eventually manage to drift off.

* * *

The following morning I'm the last to make it to breakfast, but no one seems to have been at the table long either, nor care that I'm a couple of minutes behind the rest of them. I eat the bare minimum, seeing as almost all of the food on the train looks artificial and unpleasant to eat, even if it probably does taste nice anyway. I sit by the window for the short remainder of the journey, talking to no one. There's little to see - just mountains and valleys - but whatever there is in the (mostly) untouched area of District 1 is attractive.

We arrive in the Capitol at around 9.30am, having gone through one if the mountains which blocks District 1 from the Capitol.

"Home sweet home," Libby says passionately before escorting an Avox into her room to carry her bags. I roll my eyes at Skye, and apparently Finnick has a similar idea.

" _She's_ meant to be the one doing the escorting," he mutters, loudly enough for the rest of us to hear.

The Capitol is quite beautiful from a distance. The water is a deep blue colour and seems to be completely unpolluted, which surprises me, seeing as this is the place in Panem where everyone has everything which emits every polluting gas. The buildings are tall and shine as if they had been recently polished (I wouldn't be surprised if they got Avoxes to polish the buildings for them - this is the Capitol, after all, and they seem to have an unlimited supply of them). I immediately spot the tribute centre, it being one of the largest blocks there. The train continues along the edge of the city until we reach the large platform where we are greeted by thousands of - perhaps all of - the Capitol residents. Peacekeepers hold the crowds back whilst we get off the train and into a sleek black limousine. I smile to the crowds, knowing perfectly well that a smile and nice personality can be the difference between living and dying in that arena the gamemakers have nicely crafted up for us.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**


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